Sniffle and Sneeze
by SpicyChestnut
Summary: Link is bad at being sick; Zelda lends a helping hand / BoTW pre-calamity ZeLink fluff. Commission for Ninelanterns.


**A/N:** This piece is the result of my first ever commission! Hope you all enjoy! Details about commissions on my Tumblr if you're interested.

* * *

She heard his sniffle echo in the cavernous room—like a canon blast piercing the relative silence of the castle library, shortly after seating herself at her usual reading table. She paused in her study, placing a finger upon the line she was reading and turning her head to glance at him curiously. He stood a few feet away, shoulders back and spine stiff, arms behind his back. He would have been the picture of dutiful professionalism, were it not for the concentrated furrow of his brow and wrinkling of his nose as he struggled to keep a bead of snot from running down his upper lip. Zelda bit the inside of her cheek, attempting to withhold the impolite snicker which threatened to escape her. Turning back to the table, she reached into her book bag and pulled forth a freshly starched handkerchief daintily embroidered with her initials before scooting back her chair to stand.

She could feel more than see or hear as Link stiffened, preparing to follow; but instead of turning to depart the library, she turned towards him, hand behind her back as she approached.

"Link," she said cooly, observing the way he kept his head tilted back just so—an effort, she assumed, to keep the snot firmly within his nostril. Struggling to suppress her amused grin she reached for his hand, turning it palm upright between them.

"If you needed a tissue, you need merely ask," she said with just the slightest hint of tease in her voice, pulling her hand from behind her back and transferring the handkerchief from her palm to his. He glanced down sheepishly, fingers curling gently around the soft cotton before returning his gaze to hers.

"Thank you," he said quietly. She smiled.

"Any time."

Without further pomp she turned and reseated herself at her reading table, resuming her studies; though she couldn't help the smile which rose to her lips as the image of his struggling face floated across her mind's eye. _Silly boy…_

-:-:-:-

The second time she heard him sniffle, it was through the wood of her chamber door the following morning shortly after he knocked. She had just finished dressing for the day and was already making her way to the door to greet him when the sound—much louder than the day before, bled through the wood. She felt a frown tug at her lips as she opened her chamber door, only to find Link standing before her, slightly hunched with her kerchief pressed to his nose, a powerful sneeze wracking his body. She arched an eyebrow as he straightened, hastily wiping his nose before tucking the handkerchief into his pocket and clearing his throat.

"Pardon me. Good morning, Princess," he greeted cordially. But instead of his usual warm tones, his voice was nasally and just a little bit hoarse.

"I've told you—call me Zelda. Are you sick, Link?" she inquired, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind her.

However instead providing a proper answer, Link merely gestured with his arm, replying shortly: "I'm fine, Princess. Shall we…?"

Zelda frowned, wishing to argue; but she was already running late to breakfast and knew how her father despised tardiness. Further inquiry would have to wait until later.

-:-:-:-

Later, it turned out, was lunch time. The day was clear and sunny, a rarity for the dead of winter in Central Hyrule, and so she chose to luncheon in the greenhouse. As she ordered her meal brought up from the kitchens, she turned to Link with a friendly smile and inquired, "What would you like for lunch, Link?"

To her absolute surprise Link shook his head, the nasal quality of his voice more distinct than it had been that morning as he replied, "Nothing, dank you."

Zelda merely stared, wondering if she had misheard. She'd come to learn quite well by now that her glutton of a knight was not one to turn down a meal by the castle's five star chef.

"Nothing?" she repeated in disbelief. He once more shook his head.

"No, dank you. I'm nod very hungry."

Zelda stared at him a moment longer, brow furrowed and lips parted slightly in her surprise. When he did not move to contradict himself, she shook herself from her stupor and returned her attention to the butler, finalizing her order and sending him away. When she sat down upon the arm chair beside the glass windows, she turned to him, frowning as she gestured for him to take the chair opposite her own. When he had finally settled, she pinned him beneath her gaze, a sliver of accusation in her eyes.

"You _are_ sick."

It wasn't a question, but rather, an affirmation of suspicion. Link did not reply, merely met her gaze with silent steadiness. She sighed; she should have known—this was just like him.

"Link, you are the head of my guard. You are well within your right to take a day or two off duty to recover from a cold. Assign someone else to my post for a few days."

Link shook his head firmly. "I'm fine, Princess. You needn'd worry. I'll be bedder in no time," he replied—struggling, she could tell, to reign in a sneeze. She stared at him with consternation before letting out a weary breath.

"Call me Zelda. At least let me order up some hot soup or tea—"

"No, no—I'll be fine. You have more impordand things to do than worry aboud me," he stated firmly, the nasal quality of his voice taking some of the punch out of his declaration. However, before Zelda could argue with him further the butler returned, placing a steaming plate of rice and mixed vegetables before her with a bow. When he departed and the room was once more their own, she turned to him, finding a determined stare waiting for her. She let out a frustrated huff.

"Alright—fine, have it your way, then," she said, turning her attention to the food whose appetizing aroma was making her stomach growl (under different circumstances, Link would have very much enjoyed this). As she took her first mouthwatering bite, her only thought besides the perfection of the mushrooms, was: _silly, stubborn boy…_

-:-:-:-

The following morning, she quickly came to the decision that something needed to be done. When she opened the door of her chamber to greet him, as was their routine, she was met not with a foolish, snuffling boy, but instead, a ghost. He was pallid; bags hung beneath weepy eyes, and his nose was distinctly rosy around the nostrils. Clearly he was not going to "get better in no time" unless she forced him to take action.

"Good morning, Princess," he greeted wearily, despite a clear (but failed) attempt to disguise his exhaustion.

Schooling her expression she nodded politely, replying firmly, "Zelda," before hefting her book bag further onto one shoulder and walking down the hall. He followed silently behind her, his footsteps clumsy instead of the usual firm and uniform click of his heels. When she reached the split halfway down the hallway, instead of continuing straight towards the dining hall, she turned a sharp right.

"Are you nod going down to breakfasd today?" he inquired stuffily. She shook her head.

"No, I don't much care to. Do you know how I REALLY want to start my day?"

He sniffled briefly, and she could hear behind her the rustle of fabric before he quietly blew his nose. Then he cleared his throat and inquired, "How?"

She slowed, stopping mid-stride to turn and look over her shoulder, a coy smile on her lips. "I would like to start my day by eating a warm bowl of broth soup and taking a nap in the infirmary. And since you are my personal guard, I suppose you will be forced to accompany me."

Link blinked owlishly at her several times, requiring a good minute to process her words. Then, he grimaced.

"Yes… I suppose I will."

-:-:-:-

The royal physician was baffled by Zelda's sudden and unplanned appearance in the infirmary—particularly because she was, by all observable evidence, in perfect health. He was then baffled further when she requested a private room and attendant for the day. Yet despite his confusion, he led her without question to the most luxurious room available, assigning a polite curly-haired nurse to attend her. She ordered two bowls of broth soup with salted soda crackers and a pot of ginger tea, making herself comfortable upon the spacious room's loveseat sofa while Link hovered uncertainly by the door. A fire already crackled merrily in the fireplace, keeping the winter's chill comfortably at bay as she set her books down upon the low table, plucking one from the selection as a butler knocked upon the door.

"Come in!" Zelda called, making room upon the table for their meal. The butler bowed politely as he entered, placing a large, polished silver serving tray upon the table before promptly departing; and as the door clicked shut Zelda turned her attention to Link, who stared uncertainty back at her.

"Well?" she queried, "Shall I be required to force-feed you?"

Link stared at her a moment longer, posture weary and stiff and unsure before, finally, his shoulders stooped and he reluctantly trudged across the room, taking the armchair opposite her. She allowed herself a small, victorious smile, leaning forward to lift his bowl from the tray, placing it in front of him before pouring two steaming cups. Silently and without meeting her gaze Link began to eat, the effort forced at first before his body's desperate need for caloric energy spurred him into a sloppy, slurping frenzy.

Zelda attempted not to smile _too_ much as she calmly sipped her honeyed ginger tea.

As Link reached the bottom of his bowl, lips pressed against porcelain in place of the spoon left forgotten on the tray, his eyes drifted unconsciously to her untouched soup. This time she allowed her smile freedom as she set down her teacup, lifting her bowl silently and placing it before him. Without preamble or protest Link set down his empty bowl and reached for her full one, bringing it to his lips greedily.

It wasn't long before both meals had been consumed, and as Link gently placed the second emptied bowl into the first, he looked suddenly very unsure of what to do next. Once more without words Zelda gestured to the bed, eying him pointedly. Link hesitated, and as he opened his mouth to protest she interrupted.

"I will be perfectly safe, Link. I will remain in this room and can lock the door if it makes you feel better."

Link eyed her with a furrowed brow before, slowly, nodding his assent. "Please," he said hoarsely, finally rising from his chair and making for the lavish four poster. With unsteady motions he removed the Master Sword from his back along with his harnesses, placing them on the bedside table before pulling back the covers and sliding between the sheets. Zelda rose, moving to the door and sliding the thick metal deadbolt into place with a loud _thunk_. Then, she turned for the bed, coming to stand beside it as Link settled beneath the blankets.

Despite knowing he was a perfectly capable young adult, she couldn't resist the urge to pull the sheets higher, smoothing the comforter and tucking it in around him—just like her mother used to do when she was little. He let her do so without complaint, quietly observing her gentle movements. As she noticed his gaze, embarrassment quickly caught up to her, and she made to remove her hands; but Link's own darted from beneath the sheets, gently grabbing her around the wrists.

Startled, she lifted her head to find his gaze upon her, sparkling blue eyes rising to meet soothing green. A small smile graced his lips as he spoke, voice just a tad less raspy than it had been before.

"Thank you, Zelda."

She felt her heart flutter as his words registered. _Zelda… he had called her Zelda…_

Almost without realizing it a smile blossomed upon her lips, warmth rising to her cheeks as she held his gaze.

"You're welcome, Link," she said softly. "Get better… alright?"

Link offered her a faint nod, releasing her before letting out a small, weary breath as he slowly closed his eyes. She let her gaze linger a moment longer, watching the gentle but steady rise and fall of his chest before reluctantly turning once more for the sofa. As she lowered herself upon the velvet cushion she reached for her book, pulling on the bookmark allowing the tome to fall open to the last page she had read. As her eyes returned to its musty pages, one thought lingered in her mind.

_Sweet, silly, stubborn boy…_

She smiled at that.


End file.
